


Dearly Departed

by TheThirdTemptationOfParis



Series: The Who Do You Love Series [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, John isn't coping, M/M, Post-Reichenbach, inspired by a song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 09:54:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8397100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheThirdTemptationOfParis/pseuds/TheThirdTemptationOfParis
Summary: (Prequel to The Who Do You Love Series) John isn't doing so well after Sherlock jumped.





	

**Author's Note:**

> If you see sentences in italics while John is speaking, these are lyrics from Dearly Departed by Marianas Trench. The same goes for the bit at the beginning and the bit before John's dream.

_We never sent the cards. They’re all still on the table. I wanna throw them out but I’m just not able._

John thumbed the platinum band on his third finger, whiskey tumbler in hand, eyes fixed on the coffee table of 221B. The metal seemed colder now, almost freezing, like even his own body temperature couldn’t warm it. Or maybe he was just that cold now. The cards, black with gold lettering, professional, Sherlock’s idea, sat unused, hateful. 

_You’re cordially invited to the wedding of:_

_Dr. John Hamish Watson & Mr. William Sherlock Scott Holmes_

_On the 3rd of October 2012_

_Respectfully yours,  
The Happy Couple_

John stares harder, wishing he could burn them. He could, he knows. Remove the pain of the loss of his everything that day at Bart’s. He could melt the band with it. Remove it all. All the pain Sherlock had caused that day. He could start over. If only he were strong enough. He’s not. He knows that. 

He slips the band off, careful, to look at the inscription on the inside. _My one, my only._ John grips it tight in his hand, silent tears threatening to slip from his eyes. He knows he should be moving on, trying to find something to live for, like Sherlock would’ve wanted him to, but he just couldn’t. A piece of him died with Sherlock. He but the ring back on. He would live the rest of his life knowing Sherlock had made that promise to him, despite it never coming to fruition.

_This last call could be all we can do for each other._

_“John, I need you to listen to me. Please, John, will you do this for me?”_

_John keeps his eyes on the figure on the roof of the hospital, because he knows that if he looks away, he’ll never see it again. So familiar in the swirling black coat. So beautiful, he knows, even from so far below._

_“Whatever you need, love. Whatever you need from me.”_

_Sherlock was silent on the other side of the line for a few moments and John could hear him breathing, ragged and broken. He knew he was crying. “I lied.” came the response,  
“About everything. The deductions, Moriarty… loving you.”_

_Sherlock’s voice broke on the last two words. John shook his head, even though he knew Sherlock couldn’t see him. “No. Don’t. Shut up, Sherlock. Shut up. Come down. We’ll go home. Stop this.”_

_He heard Sherlock take a deep breath, “Goodbye, John.” The figure took the phone away from his ear and threw on the roof. John heard the clatter and it hit the cement. Sherlock spread his arms, leaned forward, and fell._

John woke up with the sun in his eyes. He shook the cobwebs away, knowing he couldn’t wallow for another day. He’d made a promise to himself that he would go to his grave today. He had to. 

When he got there, he was silent. He couldn’t summon his words. They had been on the tip of his tongue for days, but now, they crawled back down his throat and burrowed in his stomach, making it twist. He summoned his courage, and started, “I wish I could hate you for this. I think… I think maybe it would be easier if I did. But I don’t. I never could. It’s just not in me. But you know that already.

“And you also know I’m never leaving. You tried your best to convince me before you jumped, but I know… _knew_ you. You could never flat out lie to me. But while I don’t hate you, I’m still immensely angry. How could you just do this to me? _I don’t know how to mend it, but this chapter ended. But all of my plans depended on you._ ” John collapsed to his knees in the grass, and pressed his forehead against the cool black granite of the gravestone.

“ _Every masterpiece, I’d write again. You’ll always be my porcelain. I crossed my heart, but I stuttered too. So, truth or dare, was I good to you? I haven’t had enough of you all to myself. Still beside you, in sickness and health. For ever after you will be my home, and there’s no place like home._ Come back to me… Please, just stop this.” He let himself cry, gripping tight to the rock in front of him. He clung on to the hope that maybe, just maybe, everything he’d seen, everything he’d heard had been nothing but a trick. He had to hold out hope. 

“I love you… Please, just come back to me, my love. That’s all I ask.” 

He heard only silence in response.


End file.
